What's new–and news–at Magic Dog Press

Regressing

At one point in my life, through a bizarre collection of circumstances, I found myself estranged from virtually all of my family. The circumstances make a good story in an “OMG they didn’t” kind of way, but they’re really not important right now. What is important is that for the first time in my life I found myself without anyone to say, “You shouldn’t be doing that, Bodie.” The natural result, of course, was that I did all sorts of things I had long wanted to do, but had not done for fear of familial censure.

One thing I did was buy a deck of Tarot cards and a book to explain them to me (it turned out to be a book by a woman who believed intuition was more important than book larnin’ in readin’ the cards, so I spent a fair amount of time throwing cards and talking to myself about them. It was fun–and informative. I turned out to be surprisingly good at it.

Another thing I did was check into the whole “past-life” thing. I had a friend who swore she’d been reincarnated numerous times. I had my doubts, but the idea intrigued me, so I went online and had a past-life report done by someone who claimed to be using Edgar Cayce’s methods. That report said I was working off some seriously bad karma–“Holocaust” was the word they used. Well, I thought, that explains a lot.

Then I happened upon a lovely little square book. Its title was set in Bitstream Oz Handicraft font, and it had an intricate, textured tapestry design on half of the cover. I opened it up. A CD was in a little envelope glued inside the back cover. It was a set of past-life regression exercises. Seduced by the beautiful design (this is an occupational hazard for people like me), I bought the book and took it home.

I read a little bit. The word “Holocaust” didn’t crop up, so I plucked up my courage, popped the CD into my boom box, laid myself down on the sofa, and did the first exercise. It was a journey in guided imagery.

To call what I experienced “memories” is to give them too much substance; they were images, that’s all: In one I played under an arbor with other children. In another I stood in a hallway looking at chairs hung, Shaker style. In yet another I stood in a barn in a ragged red dress, barefooted, a bucket of milk in one hand.

The book had suggested that I keep a journal of my experiences, so the next morning I dropped Patrick off at school and then took a blank journal and headed for Jazzy Bagels. I ordered my favorite–an spinach and asiago cheese bagel with chive cream cheese, toasted, and a large mocha–then lurked by the fireplace until one of the coffee nerds parked in the comfy chairs gave up and left. I swooped and got it, opened my journal, took a bite of bagel and a sip of mocha, dug my pen out of my purse, and sat, tapping it on the journal page.

I felt foolish–I hadn’t had any “experience.” I had just gotten a few visual images, hardly worth recording. But there I was, at the coffee store with my journal and no book to read. I took another bite of bagel and started to record the first image. I started the first sentence with no idea where it was going to wind up. And yet somehow it finished, and I started another without even thinking about it.

And something happened that I’ve never experienced before. I slipped into something like a trance. The image began to spool, like a movie, and I simply recorded what played out. I wrote as fast as I could, starting each sentence as an act of faith, letting it spool across the page as the image unwound in my head.

When I was finished, I had a story–a terrible, sad, evocative, vivid story. I had forgotten my bagel and mocha, and the lunch crowd was coming in. I closed my journal, gulped down the rest of my bagel, and left.

I did the exercise again that night, and the next day captured the story hiding in the second image. By the time I wearied of the experiment I had a whole series of stories of women, each facing death in some way. The stories are like nothing else I’ve written. The women in them range in age, era, and social status. Each faces a life-and-death decision. Most of them–in fact, all of them–end up dead. One spends most of the story as a ghost.

I never got beyond the first exercise; someday I’ll pop the CD into the boom box again, lie down on the couch, and do Lesson 2. Maybe it’ll answer some of the questions that Lesson 1 raised.

Was I looking at past lives, or my own past? As I read the stories I recognize conflicts that are playing out in my own life. Are they playing out because they were unresolved in a previous incarnation? Or did my brain take the opportunity for play that the regression exercise presented and use it to “talk story” with me about challenges that I have faced, and am facing? How did the stories unwind out of those flashes of image?

The regression exercise didn’t provide me with any answers. I don’t know if I’ll be coming back or taking a dirt nap or signing up for a shift in the pitchfork factory when I finish up here. I’m not sure that’s important. For me, the central value of the exercise was not coming away with the knowledge that I was Cleopatra in a former existence, but with a series of stories that were apparently swirling just below the surface, waiting for an opportunity to unwind onto a page.

I love my family but when I set out on a new journey with only Maggie, who can’t tell me “You can’t do that,” I dance a jig of freedom. It’s so empowering. Love knowing someone else shares my feelings.

So interesting, Sherry. I had a similar experience with the I Ching, and a hexagram that prompted a full afternoon and 10+ notebook pages about my mother and our relationship. I’ve never forgotten what I learned from those intense hours.

Sherry, you are totally made of awesome! I want to read that book of stories. I’m about half-way through with GOOD ON PAPER and want to 1) read faster and find out what else happens AND 2) read slower and make it last.

The healing-of-Bethie material I just entirely snuggled down into. I grew up on fairy tales, and my absolute favorites were the ones where an abused girl was given refuge by a wise old woman and found her own strength. It was one of the bases of my unsold fantasy, SAGE.

NATURALLY, I had to Google Bitstream Oz Handicraft font, because I needed something else to distract me from housework and writing….

I’m so glad Good on Paper’s holding your interest–the problem with big books is that sometimes they’re too big, and the story gets lost. I agree with you–Bethie’s one lucky woman to get to do and be all that stuff. And isn’t Bitstream Oz Handicraft cool?

I had a similar experience several decades ago – different stories, different times – but very fascinating and all those “flash-backs” have become part of who I am in whole today. Do you have links to the book/CD you recommend? I haven’t heard of it and would love to have a bit more info – the lazy way. 😉

Scary. I’m not sure I would want to look at all those horrible ends. Then, I’m a happy ending kind of person since life can be cruel on it’s own. I did have a similar experience at a conference where I attended a self hypnosis exercise and had a story play out with a happy child who is confronted by a demon begging to be left alone. Weird!
NancyN. R. Williams, fantasy author

Good point–the theory behind the exercise (if you subscribe to the idea of reincarnation) is that past-life traumas can affect current life in the form of phobias, inexplicable psychological crud, recurring dreams, and self-sabotaging patterns. The idea is to confront past-life traumas, understand that they’re past, and lay them to rest. I probably wouldn’t have done it had I not felt that my current life could use a tune-up.

About Magic Dog Press

Magic Dog Press exists to bridge the gulf between manuscript and bookshelf. We specialize in working with writers who wish to self-publish, but aren't quite sure where to start. If you have a book inside you struggling to get out--or if it already has gotten out, and is standing on your porch wondering which way to go, contact us.

Good On Paper

by Bodie Parkhurst EAN 9781449586478 Publication date: May 2010

Someone’s in the Kitchen Family Cookbook

THE SOMEONE'S IN THE KITCHEN FAMILY COOKBOOK Compiled by Sherry Wachter ISBN is 1456476149 EAN-13 is 9781456476144. Available for Christmas from Amazon

We’re Honored; Thanks, SCN!

Award

New Release

Available in paperback and on Kindle from Amazon

New Release

The perfect gift for the single mom or mom-to-be in your life. Available in paperback, oversize illustrated gift edition, and on Kindle. Custom mom and baby items coming soon

Share This Blog

Email Subscription

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.